


Hands

by Blackghost7



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackghost7/pseuds/Blackghost7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs is so, so tired of it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

Gibbs stared at the hand stretched out towards him.

Could he do it? Could he take it? Could he let himself accept it?

He was tired, so tired. All his life, all this crap. He'd caused so much pain. So many people had died because of him, for him. The bomb that had taken out six Agents almost three weeks ago felt like the final straw. It wasn't his fault, he knew that on some level, but he had been the Agent in charge and so he still felt responsible. So tired, so tired.

But everyone still looked to him, he had to be strong, continue, avenge, forget. The avenging part was over now, but the forgetting part was where he had gotten stuck. Most people's memories faded with time, morphed into something softer, but his only seemed to sharpen. Every face, every word, every action. He could see them so clearly. They kept him awake. So tired, so tired.

They trusted him, and he had always tried to be worthy of that trust. But who could he trust in return? 

He stared at the hand that was stretched out towards him.

He trusted that hand. That hand had been there for more than fifteen years, had been there through a good deal of the crap that was his life, had learned about the crap that came before, and still was always there to support him, to steady him, to lift him up. That hand had saved his life on more than one occasion, had given him food and drink, and comfort in tiny ways that no one seemed to notice, but Gibbs had noticed, and he had noticed the scars. Scars on that hand that Gibbs had caused, scars on the body attached to that hand that Gibbs had caused. No need to look at them, he knew each one by heart. Scars on the mind that Gibbs could map with certainty, not all of those caused by him thankfully, but too many which were his fault for him to feel comfortable with, and he hated himself a little more. So tired.

Scars everywhere, and too many caused in service to Gibbs, and he wondered if the need he felt to erase from existence those who had caused the other scars wasn't an attempt on his part to try to erase his own guilt, even if just a little.

He stared at that hand, that trusted hand, and wondered if he could do it.

And if he did, could he find himself again after, wrap himself in the cloak of certainty and leadership and strength again, go back to being himself as if this hadn't happened? Or would this change things forever? Would that be better, or worse? Would this happen again? 

"Come on, Jethro. You've been so strong for everyone so long. Let me make the decisions for now. Live by my rules for a while."

Gibbs looked up into the sure, green eyes, and took the outstretched hand.

****

Tony had a few rules of his own. He hadn't numbered them like Gibbs, but tried to live by them every bit as much as he tried to follow Gibbs' rules. He didn't have quite as many, and none of his involved lawyers, but he figured that was alright because Gibbs' rules covered the lawyer bit enough already. Tony's rules were pretty simple.

When a friend is in trouble, do whatever you can to help them.

Take time out each day to play.

Remember the fallen, friend or foe, then let them go.

Do what feels good.

Not everything can be fixed by a good meal or a stiff drink.

When the man you love is in pain, your own feelings are not important. Only his are. And no matter what it might cost you, you do everything you can possibly think of to make him feel better.

He had a few more, of course, but that one was the important one right now. Gibbs was in pain, and Tony had to help him. Since the usual methods - annoy Gibbs until he snaps out of it and slaps you; sit in the basement and drink until he finally gives away what's bothering him; distract him with a new puzzle to solve; show up looking troubled so he can fuss over you and have something else to focus on - hadn't worked, Tony had decided on this course of action. He knew he was in danger of laying his heart bare and getting it stamped on, but that didn't matter. Only Gibbs mattered.

When Gibbs took his hand, Tony breathed a sigh of relief. But this was just the beginning.

Tony led Gibbs upstairs to his bedroom and stripped him bare. It was odd, the way Gibbs just stood there and let Tony undress him, but Tony shut down his mind and his babble, and focused on Gibbs. He pulled the naked man towards the bathroom, and gently pushed him into the shower, stepping in behind Gibbs after he had stripped himself. Tony soaped Gibbs up and rinsed him off, and held him in his arms whispering softly.

"It's okay. I've got you. It's not your fault. I've got you. You are loved."

Gibbs let himself be coaxed out of the shower and be dried by Tony's hands brandishing a towel. He let himself be led to the bedroom and into the bed, Tony's hands guiding and caressing him. Tony's hands. He trusted those hands. Those hands meant the world to him.

Tony's hands pushed him down onto the mattress and caressed his flesh. Gibbs shuddered, not wanting those hands to be tainted by touching him, but Tony was relentless. Tony's hands caressed his body and soothed his mind, and Gibbs lost himself to the sensation. 

Do what feels good.

Gibbs smiled. One of Tony's rules. 

He surrendered himself to the touch, and did what felt good. He pressed his hips up against Tony's and moaned at the feeling of Tony's hardness against him. In the back of his mind, a small voice wondered at that, but he was so tired and Tony's hands felt so good. Tony had tried talking to him, had tried to be there for him, but Gibbs had shut him out. Apparently Tony had decided that if the psychological wasn't welcomed, he would try the physical. Tony was a very physical man, after all. 

Do what feels good.

Tony felt good to Gibbs.

Tony was such a good friend, that he was willing to do this for Gibbs. 

When Tony's lips covered his own, Gibbs looked up at him curiously, but Tony's eyes were closed. He was probably picturing kissing someone else. Gibbs really should stop Tony and tell him that as much as he appreciated it, it really wasn't necessary for Tony to sacrifice himself to Gibbs like this. But Tony's lips felt so good, and his mouth tasted so nice, and Gibbs was so selfish he couldn't let this go. He would take whatever Tony offered, as he had always done. He had demanded and simply taken so much over the years, and given Tony so little in return. Another scar Gibbs had caused. Another strike against him. He was so tired.

And still Tony was willing to do this for him. And Gibbs would take it.

Tony's lips nibbled and nipped, and his tongue played and danced, and he felt so good. Gibbs let his mind shut down. Tony's hands caressed his body and then gently grasped his arousal, made him feel so good, and Gibbs knew he had to give something back. But when he reached for Tony, the younger man softly pushed his hands away and kissed and nibbled his way down Gibbs' chest and belly, whispering again.

"This is about you, Jethro. Just lie there and relax. Let me make you feel good."

And Gibbs felt a lump forming in his throat at the care Tony was showing him, that Tony was actually able and willing to put his heterosexuality aside and kiss and touch an old, tired man, just to make him feel better. He should tell Tony to stop. He shouldn't allow Tony to offer himself up to Gibbs like this, going against his nature. But Gibbs was so selfish, and so tired, and Tony felt so good.

By the time Tony's mouth reached Gibbs' arousal, the older man's mind had shut down, and all he could do was feel. Tony's tongue and lips caressed him, taking him in, lavishing attention on him. Gibbs could only lie there and lose himself to the sensations. Tony's fingers played with him, and if Gibbs' mind had still been working, he would have wondered how Tony knew how to make him feel so good, but thought was banished in favor of just feeling. He would be able to think again later. When at last he spilled himself down Tony's throat, he broke. He was so tired, and so ashamed, and so shattered. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye before he sank into unconsciousness.

*****

Tony sat cross-legged on the bed and watched the man he loved in silence for long minutes. His heart ached at the sight of the single wet streak running from Gibbs' eye into the short hairs above his ear, and he wanted to brush it away, erase it, but he didn't want to disturb Gibbs. He knew he should probably feel apprehensive, should probably leave, but he couldn't bring himself to move more than a few feet away from the hurting man.

At last, Tony carefully and quietly moved and settled under the covers next to Gibbs. He had contemplated for a moment moving to the guestroom, but he figured he had shown his hand already, and it would make no difference anymore if Gibbs woke to find Tony next to him in the morning.

*****

But when Tony woke up the next day, Gibbs was still in a deep sleep. Tony knew that Gibbs usually woke early, so this was worrying in itself, but after staring at the man and watching his clearly troubled sleep for a few minutes, Tony sighed and got up. He was just grateful that he had gotten Gibbs to sleep for a few hours.

*****

Gibbs woke to the smell of coffee, and opened his eyes to immediately fix unto a mug of his favorite beverage. After letting his mind process that coffee was ready and waiting for him, Gibbs broadened his gaze. Tony held the mug. Tony, who he had used and hurt and taken advantage of. Tony, who he had let sacrifice himself yet again last night for his own good. Tony, who apparently would do anything to take care of Gibbs. The guilt choked his throat, and all he could do was take the mug and swig a sip, welcoming the burn of the scolding liquid as punishment.

"Time to get up. You're taking me shopping. We need groceries for breakfast."

And after taking another sip, Gibbs got up and showered, and drove them to the store, and followed Tony around with a basket as the younger man filled it with what he wanted. Gibbs paid, and once home, let Tony usher him into a chair and sat there watching as Tony prepared them breakfast.

Later, Tony put the car keys on the table in front of Gibbs, and spoke again.

"You're taking me to the marina. You're taking me sailing."

And Gibbs drove them over to the marina and let Tony lead him to the boat, and they sailed for a few hours in the burning sunshine.

That evening after dinner, Tony grabbed the book from the side table next to the couch, handed it to Gibbs, and settled himself comfortably on the couch on his back, his head in Gibbs' lap.

"You're reading to me. At least two chapters. Entertain me."

That night, Tony again used his hands and mouth to subdue Gibbs into relaxed exhaustion, and watched him sleep for a while before he settled under the covers himself.

*****

The following morning, Tony made breakfast and made sure Gibbs actually ate some, then Tony shoved him in the direction of the basement. 

"You're going to show me how to carve wood."

*****

For several days, this pattern continued. Tony never pushed anything, just told Gibbs what they were going to do next, and Gibbs let him. At night, Tony made Gibbs forget himself with his hands or his mouth, and then watched as Gibbs fell into an exhausted sleep.

At last Gibbs' sleep became less restless, more peaceful, and Tony could relax easier next to him, still worried but pleased he had been able to help the man he loved.

*****

The basement was of course a favorite. More often than not, Tony would make breakfast and then tell Gibbs they were going downstairs. This morning was no exception.

Hours later, covered in sawdust and little nicks and cuts despite Gibbs' careful and hands-on direction, Tony put down the tools and smiled up at Gibbs. 

"That's enough for now, Jethro. You're taking me upstairs and we'll shower."

When Tony turned around to head upstairs, Gibbs smirked. He was feeling more and more like himself these days, and he had started to register certain things. 

That Tony slept next to him every night.

That Tony knew exactly how to drive him insane, and didn't seem to have any problem with the fact that it was a man he was doing it to.

That Tony's touch was not only caring, but loving.

Gibbs followed Tony upstairs and into the shower.

*****

Tony had intended for them to shower and then have Gibbs take them to his diner for a late lunch, but his plans were thwarted when Gibbs took the towel from his hands and then carefully dried Tony off. Tony tried to stay calm, really he did, but the feeling of those hands on him was too overwhelming. When Gibbs grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, Tony just didn't have the strength to resist. And when Gibbs nibbled and nipped his way down Tony's chest and abs the way Tony had done the previous nights, Tony just gasped and let it happen. If only just once. A reward of sorts. 

Gibbs was fantastic, unbelievable, and Tony could hardly breathe as he felt that mouth and tongue tease him relentlessly. When Gibbs released him from his mouth before he spilled, Tony keened in disappointment. But when Gibbs crawled back up his body and took his mouth in a deep, fierce kiss, Tony moaned in delight.

"Jethro…"

"Tell me what to do, Tony."

"What…?"

"You've been giving me orders for days now. Tell me what you want me to do."

Even though his dreams were coming true before his very eyes, Tony knew this was wrong. He swallowed harshly, and tried to roll away, out of Gibbs' grasp, but the older man wouldn't allow it.

"Jethro, please…"

"Tony."

Tony's eyes showed the pain he felt, and now it was Gibbs' turn to swallow.

"Tony…?"

"Not like this, Jethro. Not out of obligation, or because I order you. Please."

Very slowly, Gibbs pulled back, staring down at the man who had cared for him, and who apparently cared for him more than Gibbs had realized. He breathed deeply, and broke his own rule.

"I'm sorry, Tony."

*****

Tony left Gibbs' house right after that, and spent a good few hours at his apartment cursing himself while getting steadily plastered. He should have just let Gibbs do it, whatever it was he had wanted to do, just to experience the man once. He should have stayed. He should have told Gibbs the truth. He should have… He couldn't.

*****

Gibbs rubbed his hands over his eyes and silently cursed himself. His state of mind at the time was no excuse, even through his self-wallowing he should have realized the truth. No way Tony would have done what he did if there wasn't more to it. No way Tony would have shown Gibbs that side of him if he hadn't been so fucking worried. No way Tony would have… Gibbs' thoughts settled on that. No way. Incredible. And he'd never seen it.

*****

The knock was soft, but Tony heard it all the same. He unsteadily made his way to the door and peered through the peephole, laughing in self-deprecation when he saw it was Gibbs. On a deep sigh, Tony opened the door.

"Hey, Gibbs."

In a single glance, Gibbs assessed the state Tony was in.

"What happened to calling me Jethro?"

"Doesn't seem app-… appoporiate anymore."

"Appropriate?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Tony…"

Tony blinked heavily, his eyes fixed unsteadily on Gibbs, and his expression was deeply sad.

"I'm…. 'm sorry, Boss. I… bye. Bye bye. Bye, Gibbs."

Tony's eyes closed and his back collided rather heavily with the wall next to the door. Gibbs was just in time to catch him and stop him from collapsing to the floor, and he smirked to himself as he half carried, half dragged Tony to his bedroom. Depositing the completely inebriated man onto his bed and rolling him into his duvet, Gibbs sighed. This was his fault. Yet another scar he'd made, and had to blame himself for. But this time, he was determined to make it right. Dragging a chair over to the bed so he could keep a close eye on Tony, Gibbs settled in for a long night.

*****

Tony groaned when he finally managed to open his eyes.

"Water and pills are on the bedside table."

Reaching out almost blindly, Tony's fingers found the pills and the glass, and he gratefully partook of both. 

"Gibbs?"

"Be quiet, Tony. Let the pills work."

*****

It was over an hour later when Tony was lying on his couch, his head resting in Gibbs' lap, Gibbs' hand brushing softly through his hair, Gibbs' voice soft and gentle while he quietly read from a biography of Alexander. Tony cleared his throat.

"Gibbs?"

"Jethro."

Tony swallowed.

"Jethro."

Squeezing his eyes shut, trying to protect himself, Tony breathed deeply.

"Jethro… How angry are you?"

"Angry?"

"Well… yeah."

"Not angry, Tony. Surprised… happily surprised. And thank you. Thank you for taking care of me."

"You're… you're not going to kill me?"

Gibbs actually chuckled.

"Kill the man I love? Why would I?"

A desperate squeak escaped Tony's throat.

"Don't mock me, Gibbs."

Gibbs sighed deeply, then brushed the tips of his fingers first over Tony's cheeks, then his lips, his eyelids, down his nose, back to his lips.

"Tony… look at me…"

It took long, agonizing moments, but then Tony finally opened his eyes. Gibbs kept brushing his fingertips over Tony's skin, his cheek, his jaw, his throat, and back up again.

"You really think I would have done that if I didn't want to? That I would have just let you do that to me… for me, if I hadn't dreamed of you doing exactly that? There's no one I trust more than you in this world, Anthony. No one but you. For years, there's been no one but you for me."

Tony's eyes had turned wide.

"You trust me?"

Gibbs chuckled again.

"Of course I trust you. But more than that, I … I need you. I want you."

Then Tony's gaze softened as he finally saw exactly what Gibbs couldn't say. Tony didn't say it either, but he smiled.

"Me too, Jethro. Me too."


End file.
